I'm Fine
by FifiDoll
Summary: Thanks to Finn, Kurt has mono. Puck volunteers to take care of him and has to administer some rather awkward medication.


**I'm Fine**

When he was sitting in glee club one afternoon, Finn's phone fell out of his pocket. It vibrated against the now empty chair and Puck put down his guitar long enough to pick it up and see that he'd gotten a text from Kurt.

_From: Kurt  
>I hate you. Thanks for giving me mono.<em>

Puck laughed and put the phone in his pocket. Finn had to be home by now; he could drop it off for him _and_ make fun of Hummel for getting the kissing disease from his step-brother.

When he got to the Hummel-Hudson household, he was surprised to find that Carole was home already. "Hey, Finn left his phone behind," Puck held it out to her.

"Come in, Noah," she welcomed him inside. "Finn's downstairs, you can bring it right to him if you want."

Puck nodded and she closed the door behind him as he walked into the house. Usually she worked late hours; it was all a little confusing for him. Looking around Puck saw that maybe she wasn't working because Kurt's dad was well off. The house was large and spacious and accommodated for Finn and his mother rather well.

He walked into the basement just in time to hear a coughing fit. "Shut up, dude, I'm trying to choose a song," Finn mumbled.

Kurt uttered something incoherent and rolled over, trying to stifle his cough with his blankets. "You left your phone at school, idiot," Puck said, breaking the silence.

Finn paused his game of Halo and turned around to where Puck was standing. "Oh, thanks dude," Finn said as Puck offered the phone to him.

He flipped through his text messages and shut off his xbox. "Where are you going?" Puck asked.

"Quinn wants to hang out," he said simply, rushing upstairs.

Puck didn't say a word as Finn left without so much as a goodbye. He heard a muffled phrase from the pile of pillows and blankets that Kurt was currently hiding in. "What?" he asked.

Kurt rolled over and repeated, "I'm so glad he's gone."

"He sounded like he was being kind of a douche," Puck admitted.

They didn't speak. Kurt just sighed and closed his eyes, the light hurting them. Carole came downstairs and asked, "Hey Kurt, how are you feeling?"

He just grumbled. She looked sympathetically at him as Puck made his way back to the stairs. He'd done what he came to do and now he should leave. "Honey, you know your dad and I have a date tonight. Are you going to be okay, or would you like us to stay and take care of you?" she asked.

"'m fine," Kurt insisted.

She wiped his hair out of his face and felt his forehead. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He just nodded. "I think we should stay and take care of you," Carole insisted after a moment.

"No, you and dad deserve a night out," Kurt replied weakly. "Really, I'm fine."

"I can stay."

Puck was surprised when he heard himself say those words. Apparently Carole and Kurt were, too, because they both looked at him like he was crazy. Kurt just tossed himself back onto his pillows. He wasn't objecting; that was a good sign. Puck wasn't even sure why he offered. Carole stood and walked across the room. "Are you sure?" she asked him, leading him upstairs.

"Yeah," Puck insisted. "I don't have anything else to do tonight, and he'll probably just act all guilty if you cancel your date."

Carole was surprised at Puck's insightfulness. She nodded and said, "Yeah, okay, if you'd like to, you can stay."

"Who's staying?" Burt asked walking into the room, wiping grease from his hands.

"Puck is going to stay and take care of Kurt while we're out," she said.

Raising an eyebrow, Burt asked, "He is?"

Puck stood awkwardly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He stood under Burt's scrutinizing gaze for a few seconds before Carole's calm hand on his arm convinced him to trust Puck. He nodded and said, "Okay, but if anything goes wrong, you call us, you got it?"

"Got it," Puck said quickly.

Kurt's dad was really a terrifying man when he wanted to be. Puck went back downstairs as Burt and Carole got ready for their date. Puck mainly sat and played Halo, turning his attention to Kurt only when he'd toss and turn in bed. Every time he'd stir, he'd insist he was fine, and Puck was too timid to press him further. The guy seemed pretty out of it and Puck was scared of catching mono.

When Burt and Carole left, Puck felt a little more insecure. Kurt was still curled up under his blankets in a tiny ball. Carole had told Puck to make sure that Kurt ate something, but otherwise he had no instructions. He didn't even really know how to take care of someone with mono. There was a can of chicken noodle soup set out on the counter.

Puck quickly set to work making the soup, completely ignoring the instructions on the label. He microwaved it in a huge bowl, checking it every thirty seconds so he didn't make it too hot. When he was satisfied with the temperature of the soup, Puck brought it downstairs to Kurt, who was stirring again.

He set the bowl of soup on Kurt's dresser and shook him awake. "No," Kurt groaned.

"You have to eat, Hummel," Puck said roughly.

Kurt rolled over, trying to ignore him. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. Kurt tried to glare at Puck, but the pain in his head and body made him rest back against the pillows, exhausted. "You okay?" Puck asked, Kurt's wincing causing him to worry

Nodding, Kurt said, "Just give me the soup."

He held out shaking hands and Puck said, "No, you're going to spill."

"No I'm not," Kurt protested, his voice whinier than usual.

Puck just took the bowl in his hands and filled the spoon. He held the spoon out to Kurt who took it without a single protest. That was strange. Kurt was usually so headstrong. Puck supposed there were stranger ways to be spending his Friday night, but feeding a sick Kurt Hummel chicken noodle soup was a little weird. Kurt ate slowly and Puck never pressed him. The soup cooled as Kurt ate it, but he welcomed every spoonful.

After almost forty-five minutes, the soup was gone. "Thanks," Kurt said with a weak smile.

Puck just nodded, setting the bowl back on Kurt's dresser. He finally got a good look at the diva. Kurt's skin was so pale, and it was coated in a small layer of cold sweat. His eyes were closed in a way that implied he was in constant pain, and his voice was weak and raspy. "Are you okay?" Puck asked.

"You keep asking that," Kurt said with a weak laugh.

"Well you look like shit, dude," Puck admitted.

Kurt didn't even protest at being called 'dude.' "You don't want any medicine or anything like that?" Puck pressed.

Kurt shook his head, but then said, "I guess some Tylenol or something would be nice."

"Painkiller. Got it," Puck nodded.

He stood and began wandering the house, shuffling through all the cabinets in search of painkillers. Kurt lowered himself back under the blankets, curling up into a little ball like he was before. Puck rifled through the medicine cabinet upstairs, trying to find a bottle of medicine _besides_ the lone one he'd found. Who the hell owned suppositories but no swallow pills? Then he spotted an empty pain reliever bottle in the garbage can and sighed. They had _just_ run out apparently. Poor Kurt.

Puck went downstairs and tossed the bottle onto Kurt's lap. Kurt grabbed at it and barely read it before tossing it (with surprisingly good aim) at Puck's head. Quick reflexes on Puck's part stopped the bottle from a painful collision. "No," Kurt grumbled.

"It's all you guys have left," Puck told him. "I checked everywhere."

Kurt grumbled and rolled over. Puck could have sworn he heard him mumbled "fuck," but he had no proof. "So are you gonna take one or should I go put these away?" Puck asked.

"'m so miserable, but I don' wanna…" Kurt mumbled.

The kid really did look pitiful, lying there under at least six blankets, shivering, wincing in pain, and coughing uncontrollably. He reached out with heavy, lazy hands to pop a cough drop, but that was all he could muster. Sighing, Puck said, "I will, but _no telling_."

Kurt let out a laugh and Puck couldn't imagine Kurt actually admitting to _any_ of this. Sitting down next to Kurt, Puck began peeling back the blankets. Only half of them were gone before Kurt started shivering violently. Frustrated, Puck tossed them back on the boy and said, "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

Kurt didn't even reply, he just pulled the blankets up to his neck. "You're going to have to at least pull your pants down if I can't see what I'm doing," Puck shot. "This is fucking weird dude and I'm not doing _all_ the work."

Sighing, Kurt squirmed under his blankets before glaring at Puck and muttering, "There."

Reaching blindly under the blankets, Puck found his hand touching cold, damp skin. He followed the skin down along Kurt's spine to his ass. He was trying not to be turned on by the whole groping thing and hoped to goodness that Kurt was trying to sleep or something.

Pill in hand, Puck found his way to Kurt's opening. He ran a finger along the puckered skin for a moment and tried to ignore the groan and shudder from the boy below him. Prodding the pill at Kurt's opening, the smaller boy squirmed and said, "No, I changed my mind."

"Stop," Puck said, slapping Kurt's ass just loud enough to make a sound. "You're miserable and this will help."

"Your hitting me won't," Kurt pouted.

Puck did the same thing again and Kurt stopped protesting. Repositioning the pill, Puck pressed slowly, trying to ignore how _sexual_ Kurt's groan was. Once Puck felt his finger inside Kurt, he knew it was time to stop. Besides, the whole getting turned on by a guy was a little unnerving. Puck pulled his hand out of the blankets and Kurt pulled up his pants. Neither spoke; an awkward silence lingered around them.

Puck left to wash his hands and return the bottle upstairs. Once he was back in the basement, he saw Kurt shivering under the massive expanse of blankets already covering him. "You're still cold?" Puck asked incredulously.

If he was under that many blankets, he would be sweating bullets, and he knew it. "Finn was under at least ten before he was warm," Kurt muttered.

"Fuck," Puck replied.

Kurt just continued shivering, and the only blankets left in the room were the ones on Finn's bed. Sighing, Puck sat next to Kurt on the bed. He gave the room one last look over for a blanket before giving in. He shouldn't have watched _The Day After Tomorrow_ last night; he wouldn't have this seemingly useless but actually really helpful information in his brain. Puck shed his sweatshirt, shoes, and jeans before crawling under the pile of blankets.

A gasp came from Kurt's mouth as he looked at Puck, confused. "C'mon, I can't find any more blankets and you need to warm up," Puck said, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

He held out his arms and without protest, Kurt wiggled into Puck's grasp. A tight arm held Kurt around his shoulders, allowing his face to become buried in a very warm neck. The other strong arm held Kurt's waist, pulling them so their bodies were flush against each other.

Puck tried to ignore Kurt's half-hard erection pressing into his leg as the boy's shivers slowly dissipated. It was warm under all the blankets, but Kurt was better, so it didn't matter, right? He also tried to ignore how good Kurt's hair smelled, even though the boy was sick as a dog. Puck found himself quickly lulled to sleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of Kurt's chest and the comfort of being snuggled up to someone else.

The next morning Puck stirred, forgetting where he was. A heavy body kept him from moving too far, and he remembered where he had fallen asleep. "Shit," he mumbled.

Puck had forgotten to tell his mom he'd been at Kurt and Finn's; she was probably worried sick. He scrambled out of bed, trying his hardest not to wake Kurt, who looked peaceful for the first time since Puck had arrived the previous afternoon. Finn was snoring lightly in his bed across the room. Puck pulled on his clothes and went upstairs, hoping nobody was awake.

"You're up," a familiar voice called from the living room.

Burt and Carole were sitting around on the sofa in their bathrobes, sipping coffee. "Sorry," Puck blushed furiously as he pulled on his letterman's jacket. "I kind of just fell asleep."

"It's okay, sweetheart," Carole insisted. "I called your mom for you."

Puck let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks for taking care of Kurt last night," Burt said earnestly.

"No problem," Puck nodded.

He left before things got _really_ weird. Once home, Puck found a new text message in his inbox.

_From: Hummel  
>Thanks for taking care of me last night. I feel better already :)<em>

Satisfied, Puck went back to bed; it was much too early to be awake, even if he had just slept for eight hours next to a surprisingly cuddly (and good smelling) Kurt Hummel.


End file.
